Yankee pride takes on Boston

Published 8:00 pm, Thursday, April 14, 2005

Either way, somehow I ended up at Fenway Park watching the Yankees take on the Red Sox on Wednesday, the second game of the Red Sox's first homestand of the season.

I am a die hard Yankees fan, and going to Fenway is the equivalent of shopping at cheap department stores. You just don't get the same quality.

And not only do the Yankees slightly run my life for the better part of spring and summer, but I tend to run my mouth. Just a little.

But not only did I end up in right field box seats surrounded by Sox fans, I brought one with me.

My companion was wearing his freshly bought David Ortiz jersey and black hat with that horrible "B" on it, and I had on a Jeter hat, Yankees shirt and blue and white striped zip-up. We were quite the sight.

At least according to all of the people who commented as we tried to get to our seats.

"No Yankee fans allowed."

"Why did you bring a Yankee fan with you?"

"Yankee fans don't belong here."

And that's just the stuff I can print.

Keith and I ended up sitting in the wrong seats, which of course drew another comment: "A, B, C, D. That's how the alphabet goes, Yankee fan."

I scanned the crowd, and yes, I was the only blue and white fan in sight.

I needed a beer.

I started bantering with the guy to my right, who quickly nicknamed me "Jeter girl."

He muttered something about Jeter striking out in the first inning.

I told him that Derek was just waiting for me to arrive and I coughed under my breath, "Walk-off home run in the ninth" (referring, of course, to the Yanks' win over the Sox last week thanks to Jeter's walk-off home run.)

But it was all fun and games. They talked junk, I talked junk.

The Sox were up 1-0 in the third and Keith and I started in on our trash talking, which we had been doing since the day we realized we were fans of the two biggest rivals in baseball.

I believe he calls me "Stupid little Yankee fan" and I call him something along the lines of "Yucky Boston nerd."

Keith tossed a few comments of "What's up now?" my way and I just kept saying "It's early, my boys will come back"

I didn't feel so much like a traitor when all 5-2 of me stood up and cheered when Yankees pitcher Jaret Wright struck out not- so- pretty boy Johnny Damon and Jeter hit a bases-loaded single followed by a sacrifice fly by Hideki Matsui.

Like I said, my boys came back.

"What's that Keith, tie score?" I said as I tipped his Boston hat.

I also gave a little smirk to the guy who called me "Jeter girl" and said, "See, he was just waiting for me."

Even though I did miss my fellow Yankee fans, I screamed like they were there with me. You can take the girl out of Yankee Stadium, but you can't take the Yankee Stadium out of the girl.

The innocent bad-mouthing going on in the right field box section didn't last long.

With my cheering and beer sipping, I failed to notice two drunk girls behind me that were not so happy with me.

The two belligerent Sox fans had been standing up screaming the entire game and were obviously at least three beers too deep.

"Why on earth did you bring this Yankee fan with you?" they asked Keith.

I answered for him. "Actually, THIS Yankee fan brought HIM."

The girls didn't even look me in the eye. I think that's the point I made my first true Red Sox enemies.

It started with the "accidental" spilling of beer down my back. That, I was used to. It even happened to me at Yankee Stadium, when I was wearing my Dave Justice jersey when he hit a game-winning grand slam in the 11th inning a few years back. That was a full cup launched from the upper tier.

This was a girl standing behind me dripping it down my back. And at least at Yankee Stadium, fellow fans had my back and at least 10 dudes launched their beers back at the Sox fans.

This time I was on my own.

So I cheered louder. As they screamed "Let's Go Red Sox," I screamed "F--- the Red Sox!" over them.

All my class goes out the window when the Red Sox and Yankees are involved. My mouth becomes similar to that of a truck driver's daughter.

They started yelling "We hate redheads" to the tune of "Let's go Red Sox" and then let the beer keep flowing right into my pocketbook and onto my cell phone.

I wish I could say at this point I turned around and decked the girl, but my grown up ways got the best of me and I just said loudly,"I hate drunk obnoxious girls."

Eventually they either had to go throw up or through their blurred vision they realized the Yankees were up 5-2, because they finally disappeared.

And yes, even with beer flowing freely on my back, I was on my feet as Jason Giambi hit a two-run homer followed by a solo home run by Bernie Williams two batters later.

Ahhh, my boys were looking out for me. They knew after all my trash talking that I couldn't walk out of the stadium in my Yanks gear if they didn't stomp the Sox.

Mariano Rivera entered in the ninth inning to close the game with a scoreless inning.

I wasn't the only one cheering when he came out. Apparently the Red Sox fans can't get enough of thanking him for last year.

But that was OK, because I walked out of Fenway Park with a smile on my face, dodging dirty looks from Sox fans everywhere and teasing Keith.

I also forced him to pinkie swear me he'd go watch a Yankee/Sox game at Yankee Stadium.

Somehow though, I don't think he'll survive at Yankee Stadium like I did at Fenway.